


after practice

by anyprotein



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Hair-pulling, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 20:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyprotein/pseuds/anyprotein
Summary: Mika and Chris fuck in the locker room after practice.





	after practice

**Author's Note:**

> working title "frankly inadvisable locker room behavior"  
> obligatory shoutout to my favorite reader

Mika can tell that Chris is in a  _ mood  _ today the instant they’re on the ice together, familiar with that almost dangerous look in his eyes that signals him wanting to get rough. It’s pure serendipity when Quinn chooses to mix things up and pit them against one another when they’re running plays. Mika decides to take the opportunity to push it, getting a little more physical with him to see where this will go. As a result, Chris is almost on top of him whenever he gets the chance, shoving up against him, and Mika gets the wind knocked out of him for probably the wrong reasons when he’s shoved hard against the boards, all of Chris’s weight pressed up against him. They’re getting almost puzzled looks from the other players, but no one says anything after they see the way they’re grinning at one another.  

They get through the rest of practice, and Mika feels like he’s nearly vibrating with the adrenaline coursing through him. The briefing in the locker room seems to drag on forever, the slow trickle of players leaving even longer. Every time he looks over at Chris he catches his eye, and the intense look he has is getting Mika even more impatient. They both make their excuses for lingering behind, and eventually, it’s just the two of them left in the locker room. 

“Fucking  _ finally _ ,” he hears Chris mutter, and in an instant they’re on one another, kissing rough and dirty. Chris slides a hand into Mika’s still sweat-soaked hair, and it sends a jolt of arousal through his body. He needs more, needs Chris’s hand fisted in it, needs both of them wearing less clothing. He starts tugging at the damp fabric of Chris’s shirt, but he can’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, he waits for Chris’s patience to run out, as it always does. 

It’s not much longer before Chris pulls back, and Mika feels his face flush when he still makes a soft, disappointed noise at the loss. He doesn’t have time to really be embarrassed though, because Chris is tearing off his own shirt, just as desperate to have nothing between them. He hurries to follow suit, both ignoring appearances just to get their clothes off as soon as possible. As soon as they’re off, carelessly tossed aside, the two of them are drawn back to one another. Chris crowds him against the stall separator behind him, the thin line of wood pressing painfully into his back, but he can’t really bring himself to care when Chris is kissing him like this, pressing their bodies together. They’re both hard and rubbing against one another, smearing their sweat and precum against the other’s abdomen; Mika couldn’t stop the needy sounds escaping him even if he tried. 

Still, it’s not enough. He pulls back just enough to get out a desperate, “ _ Chris _ ,” and like always, the other man reads him easily, perfectly in sync. 

“I got you,” is all he says before he’s turning Mika around and planting a palm square in the middle of his back to bend him over in front of his own stall. “I’ll get the— _ fuck.”  _

Mika realizes immediately what’s happened and is hit with a pang of disappointment as he glances down at the empty corner of his stall where they used to keep the lube. He internally curses the reporter that saw it last week and is about to respond before he looks back and sees Chris dropping to a kneel behind him, wicked grin on his face. 

“Guess we’ll have to improvise.” 

“What are you—” Mika cuts himself off as Chris grips his thighs and forces them apart, immediately leaning in to lave his tongue over the hot skin of Mika’s inner thighs. He breathes out a quiet  _ “fuck _ .” His dick is throbbing at this point, dripping precum on the floor, and his thighs are starting to feel wet. He feels messy, and he  _ loves  _ it, needs Chris to just wreck him. 

It’s almost torturous, the way Chris is lapping at his thighs, fast and sloppy. It’s not enough, a tease, but Mika’s so turned on he can hardly stand it, dazed and breathing heavily. Chris keeps it up until his thighs are trembling, so drenched with spit that he can feel trails of it running down his leg. Mika’s on the verge of begging when Chris finally pulls away, stands up, and pushes his wet thighs together. He’s almost buzzing with anticipation, need, waiting for Chris to hurry up and fuck him. When he glances back, Chris is flushed all over, eyes dark and chest heaving, and Mika licks his lips when he sees his dick hanging hot and heavy between his legs. 

Chris is just as desperate as he is. 

He’s so distracted by the other man’s dick that he almost doesn’t notice the hand being shoved in his face. He stares at it in confusion moment before Chris says simply, “Spit.” And  _ fuck _ , his voice is rough, breathless, and Mika could listen to it forever. He does as instructed, and Chris pulls his hand back to slick himself up with Mika’s spit. Mika’s dick twitches at the sight. 

Then, Chris’s dick is pushing between his thighs, sliding through the wet mess he made, and both of them moan. He starts thrusting immediately, hands gripping Mika’s hips tightly, setting a fast pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the feeling of Chris fucking him, so painfully close to where Mika  _ really  _ needs him—it’s almost too much, and Mika drops his head, panting. It hangs there only a moment before he’s pulled back up by a fist in his hair, and he can’t help but whimper . 

“Touch yourself for me, babe,” Chris says between pants, voice strained, and Mika finds himself obeying without even thinking about it. The instant he gets a hand around himself he cries out in relief— _ fuck,  _ he needed this.

After that, he feels like he’s hurtling toward the edge quickly as both of them fall into silence, the only sounds in the room their hips slamming together, their heavy breathing, and the occasional whine from Mika. It’s getting harder and harder to hold himself up with one hand against Chris’s merciless thrusting; he tightens his grip on his dick to speed things along, crying out at the onslaught of sensation.

Finally, though, he feels Chris’s hips stutter, hears a gruff, quiet whisper of “ _ fuck,”  _ and the insides of his thighs are painted with cum. It feels slick and messy, and Chris pulls out his dick only to shove hand between his thighs, scooping up some of his own cum. Delirious, Mika wonders what he’s about to do, but then there’s slick fingers rubbing his hole, a thumb pressing against his perineum. It’s too much. 

“Come for me,” Chris says, and Mika comes at last with a shout, splattering cum on the floor. 

He feels weak, fucked out despite not even getting fucked, but luckily Chris’s arms are wrapping around him, steadying him. 

They’re quiet for a moment, still catching their breath. Chris leans forward to press a kiss to the back of his neck, and Mika smiles before huffing a laugh. 

“Good practice.”  

**Author's Note:**

> boy, i... i sure wrote this, huh  
> well. you know what they say. be the mika/kreids you want to see in the world.


End file.
